


Sad Lady Cousland

by Call_Me_J



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2018-03-18
Packaged: 2019-04-03 22:45:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14006475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Call_Me_J/pseuds/Call_Me_J
Summary: Wherein Lady Cousland feels emotions, the dratted thing.





	Sad Lady Cousland

“Why did you let her do it?!” Alistair paced in front of me as we stood in Arl's study.

Morrigan and Diablo were waiting in the corridor. All that was on my mind, however, were Alistair's words. He was, of course, referring to me giving Jowan the permission to sacrifice Isolde. And I understood his view; she was Alistair's aunt after all. However, I still felt betrayed.

“What else was I supposed to do?” I ask him, trying to keep a low volume. “Was I to let her son die?”

Alistair had stopped moving and now stood in front of me, a pained expression on his face. “Tell me then, how am I to tell the Arl that his beloved is dead? Do you think he will appreciate that news as a payment for taking care of me as a child?”

“No, and it will be hard for him to accept Isolde’s death. But it was the right decision and I stand by it.” He looked at me with a blend of emotions, admiration, disbelief and disgust the most evident. “You do not regret taking a boy's mother from him?”

“How could she have lived if he had been killed, Alistair, knowing she could have saved him? It would have killed her, torn her apart from the inside out.”

“And I suppose you understand what she was feeling?” Although Alistair had said those words mockingly, he was right. I did know.

“You know of my family, the death of them. Did I mention that my nephew was one of those murdered? A sweet boy, barely 8.” I have to look away as the memories return. “He-he had wanted his father back home for more than a few months. It was his fondest wish, having a permanent family for at least a few years. But his days were cut short abruptly. I-I had found him in his room, a small bloody figure wrapped in his mother's arms. Oh Maker, Alistair.”

There was no holding back of my tears at this point. Sobs wracked through my body, and with them more words. “He wasn't even recognisable. His faceーtorn mercilessly, his arm barely hanging on by a small amount of skin and his-his leg. I couldn't-I couldn't find it...I couldn't help him.”

Slowly my words stopped coming and with it came the realisation that Alistair was holding me in his arms, stroking my back and comforting me, telling me it was okay to cry, to let the emotions out. I raised my tear-streaked face up to his, croaking out, wanting to explain. “So I do know, Alistair. Isolde would have wanted her son to live, even at the cost of her own. I know because it is the same as I felt with my nephew. If only-”

“Shhhh, it's okay,” Alistair stroked my hair, pushing my face back into his neck. “I'm sorry love, I'm sorry for not understanding, for forcing you to go through those painful memories again.”

My muffled voice emerges from his neck, “It's fine, I needed to talk about-about that anyway.” I sniff. “Sorry for going all emotional on you.”

Alistair cracked a small smile. “No apologies needed. I find I quite like comforting you.”

I manage a chuckle. “Well, you make a very good crying pillar.”

A throat clearing interrupts us. “Not that your theatrics aren't thoroughly amusing,” Morrigan drawls as she stands at the door of the study. “But we have a world to save. So if you two lovebirds would care to drag yourselves apart…”

I sigh and wipe my tears on Alistair's tunic. We have no time for gentile and fragile Lady Cousland. This was the Grey Warden's grounds now.

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is my first time publishing a fanfic on any platform. And what better to base it on but one of my favourite games?


End file.
